


Still Life

by yersifanel



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, Physical Abuse, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 15:31:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8061820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yersifanel/pseuds/yersifanel
Summary: Barry is kidnapped by a crime boss who blames him for the fall of his father's operation. Trapped by this metahuman with a grudge against him, the last thing he expected was to be found by non other than Leonard Snart, or that he would help him in the recovery to fallow the terrible ordeal.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the Coldflash Big Bang 2016! Thank you so much to my amazing beta BlueStar because she's the best.

Some people foolishly thought that before the particle accelerator – before the Flash – Central City was a peaceful city. Those people were very wrong, of course, but Leonard had no time to go around snapping everyone out of the false stupor just to shove the truth in their faces, he wasn't interested in doing so, anyway.

Sure, now crimes were considerably flashier – pun intended – with men ripping ATM's from the wall and frying an entire security circuit with a touch. It was also messier, death by a bullet still was a possibility of course, but now there were people who could make others melt and explode among other things that were, seriously, just too messy for Leonard's taste.

Central City was no stranger to crime, no matter how much some wanted to deny.

Case and point, before the particle accelerator, Leonard had regular crime territory problems. His disputes with the Santini Family for example, but there was also the The Ackerman Circle. Leonard wouldn't call Walter Ackerman an honorable man, he was far from it, but at least he was smart, his son? Not so much.

Victor Ackerman was reckless, usually caused more problems than he was worth and the most valuable thing he possessed was the Ackerman name, but it wasn't enough to save him every time things went south.

It took a wrong move, more than enough evidence and a competent investigation to send Victor behind bars, dragging several men from the Ackerman Circle with him. Len chuckled to himself upon finding out, after that blow the Ackerman Circle laid low, one less problem for him at least.

With his son in jail, Walter Ackerman became more focused in their operation – drugs, weapon contraband, etc – and it was efficient, that Leonard couldn't deny. While Victor's incarceration came as no surprise, the raid that destroyed senior Ackerman's plans did. Old Ackerman was good, perhaps too good, so either someone spilled information or CCPD had some very competent people in on the investigation. Whatever it was, it took down one of the crime circles in Central, thus one less problem for Leonard.

But of course, soon after that Central City became the eye of the storm and preferred residence for the meta-human population. The Crime in Central City didn't change, it just evolved and it was time for Leonard to up his game.

Today, Len was in control of his environment, a territory, a deal with the local superhero, and of course, his Rogues Gallery.

"Hey boss," Mick entered the room without knocking, his gun strapped to his side, "We got a problem."

"Details, Mick," he asked without looking up from the blue prints he was studying, he had a heist to plan after all.

Mick threw a bunch of pictures over the blue prints, deliberately getting Leonard's attention. Blue eyes scanned the pictures quickly, broken shelves, bullet holes and blood over a pile of broken glass on the side walk, from a destroyed front window. He recognized the place immediately, it was the pawn shop on Graham Street, owned by a man Mick often said was old as the damn rocks.

"Is he dead?" he took one of the pictures, there was not much blood in them, but such thing was no reassurance.

"No, but he's gonna be in the hospital for a while," Mick took one of the chairs to sit down. "Witness said he threw himself against the fucking window, ran straight to it, didn't even cover his face."

"You know what was stolen?" Len placed the pictures back on the table, he disliked people messing with his territory.

"A fucking watch," Mick threw another picture on the table, "Ackerman was there, apparently someone pawned the damn thing and he wanted it back."

Len narrowed his eyes, the picture showed Victor Ackerman exiting the shop, the image was taken from the security camera.

"When did he get out?"

"Couple weeks ago, don't know how."

"Escaped, no doubt," last he knew, Victor's sentence was nothing short of ten years.

"Of course."

"The old man ran into the window, you said?" Len narrowed his eyes, ideas already forming in his head. He had seen a lot these past months, so while he found it odd at the thought of an old man running through a window, it was not surprising it could happen.

"The witness said Ackerman wanted the watch back, the old man gave it to him but requested the price it was worth, probably had no idea he was talking to the original owner, Ackerman chuckled and suddenly the man was screaming and running while Ackerman walked away from the shop."

Mick sounded annoyed, as he usually was when he didn't understand something. Meta-human activity had its pros and cons, one of the later being that when dealing with them, it was hard to predict exactly what they were capable of doing, at first glance.

"So..." Len placed the pictures back on the table, "What do we actually know?"

"Not much... yet," Mick was smirking, meaning he knew something Len didn't.

"Really?" Len gave his partner a look and the arsonist chuckled.

"The Ackerman brat wants to get back to business, one of his errand guys came by Saints and Sinners, left a message for you."

Len shared a look with his partner, the smirk on his face said more than any words could.

\------

They were invited by the Ackerman group to discuss a job. Old Ackerman was dead but Victor was taking over the business and was adamant to recover everything he lost when he was sent to prison and then all the crushed remains left after his father died.

Len wasn't really interested, but he wanted to clear a couple of points to Ackerman, one being that he didn't want him snooping around his territory causing chaos, it was impractical and annoying. Mick came along with Len to meet Ackerman. For the most part the meeting was standard, Ackerman wanted to get whatever his father used to have, talking about property, inherits and other things Len found incredibly bothersome.

"You're not offering anything here," Leonard pointed out, balancing the scotch glass he wasn't really drinking.

Victor Ackerman smiled, and it was twisted, raw... there was something unnerving about it. Mick narrowed his eyes and Leonard pretended to drink.

"My time away gave me some interesting skills," he lifted his hands, wiggling his fingers, "You know about that particle accelerator exploding? I don't think it was that bad, it gave me a nice gift."

"You're a meta-human?” Mick tilted his head, eyed Ackerman up and down. They suspected it was the case, after what happened in the pawnshop, but seeing it firsthand gave them the opportunity to understand it. "What can you do?"

The brat looked so damn proud of himself, Mick wanted to set him on fire.

"I can make people see and feel what's not really there," he sounded so confident, it was sickening. "I'm still perfecting it, but I got a nice test subject."

Mick huffed, "You can't pay someone to do that."

"No, no, this is the guy who murdered my father," Ackerman made a hand gesture and a couple of goons moved towards the hallway. "Well, the CSI that found the operation, same thing, he's the reason."

Leonard exchanged looks with Mick, they knew for a fact that if a CSI uncovered an operation it was a combination of the CSI's work and the evidence left behind, Walter Ackerman did something wrong and he was caught, as it happens.

"You're gonna like him," Ackerman moved towards the hall, where a whimper could be heard, then he came back dragging a cuffed Barry Allen towards them, probably the last person Leonard expected to see.

"He's a kid," Leonard pointed out, perhaps a little harder than he intended. Mick gave him a weird look that Len ignored.

"This is the CSI that got my father murdered," Ackerman pushed Barry to the ground, twisting his fingers in his hair to make him kneel, "And now he's mine."

\------

Barry was exhausted, every fiber in his body hurt as if he was on fire and to his senses, he really was. Gasping in pain, he curled into himself repeating in his head how this was not real, he was not on fire, the pain was not real, only a false perception in his head created by an external source. Logically, he knew what was happening, but even thinking the pain wasn't physically real, it didn't make it any easier to endure.

Rough hands forced him to his feet, pushing him to walk in a direction he couldn't see, he wasn't blind – at least he hoped he wasn't – it was nothing but another forced false perception on him. He could see, but he only saw darkness, the world around him veiled by a lie in his head.

He was pushed and fell to his knees; a rough hand gripped his sweat soaked hair, forcing his head up. He was hyperaware of his captor's presence looming over him, as he shivered and tried to not scream in pain, those fingers felt like needles scraping his scalp, but it wasn't real, like the many things Ackerman had done to him, it was happening but not as he felt it, it was not real.

But it felt real, and it hurt.

Gasping in pain, Barry lifted his trembling hands to blindly tug at his captor's hand, he wanted the man to let go, to stop touching him – his touch disgusted him, and he hated it.

"Behave, boy!"

The voice of his captor was distorted, something in between the voice of the man in yellow and the others he had confronted before. Barry knew this was not the case; the man was using that layer of voices to torment him, maybe not even knowing what Barry was hearing, just making it terrible for him. He felt tears build behind his eyes but refused to cry, he was trapped, that much was real, but the pain and fear sometimes were an illusion or perhaps everything was real and he was too far gone to notice, he couldn't tell anymore.

The scalding hot needles digging into his scalp were gone, instead a cool touch spread from his jaw towards every inch of his body, making the pain of being on fire dissipate. Someone was holding his chin but he couldn't see anything, still he seek the touch, every inch of his body was burning and he needed the soothing cold, just a touch.

"He's pretty, ain't he?" Barry cringed, hearing the voice he hated saying words that objectify him, he was nothing more than a thing to this man, a target to practice while feeding his desire for vengeance.

The burning touch was back and he screamed because it was too much, he bit his tongue, coughing and gasping, the air tasted like ashes and it hurt to breath. Suddenly everything faded until there was nothing but hot pain and darkness, he curled into himself again, not sure if he was on the floor or in the middle of a damn volcano anymore.

His captor was laughing and then nothing, Barry was alone in the obscurity around him, in pain and nothing more, no sight or sound.

\------

Leonard was not one for cold expressions, he liked to smirk and taunt, his mask was a grin, like a Cheshire cat, and he usually had no problem keeping such a mask up. Watching Barry gasp, cough and scream at his feet was making it very hard for Len to not frown, glare, and curse Ackerman.

He was holding the younger man by his chin, but Barry's eyes were looking everywhere but at him, unseeing. Ackerman grabbed him by the scalp again and the kid's shriek actually made Len flinch. He gasped and choked again before blacking out, limp in Ackerman's hold.

"It lasted longer," Ackerman mumbled, letting go of Barry, who crumbled to the floor like a broken doll, "But that's not good enough."

"That's a neat trick," he smirked, his mind racing with questions and making plans, "Works on everyone?"

Ackerman grinned, making Len's urge to punch him double, "Yeah."

"Don't test me buddy," hissed Mick but Len lifted a hand, shaking his head.

The world around Leonard morphed into a plain house, the people and objects around him where gone; only Ackerman was before him. He remained calm, his eyes searching around, this wasn't real, but he wanted to understand the differences.

"It seems you got yourself an excellent asset for work," he tilted his head, watching behind Ackerman and... There, the edges looked off, like he was a cut out put over a different background, "How long it last?"

Ackerman made a face and the fake perception around Leonard shivered, he could see more blurred edges and spots where things just looked off, if he didn't know what was happening, this situation would have been far more annoying.

Everything shifted and Leonard was returned back to reality, the meta-human was panting, glaring at the floor, at Barry, as if his failure to hold the altered perception on Len's mind was his fault.

"It depends on the person," he said. "But I'm getting better every day… practice makes a master after all."

Len lifted his chin, followed by a curt nod; he tried to avoid looking at Barry, even when Ackerman's goons came for him, dragging the unconscious man with them towards a hallway to the left, and the last door to the right. Leonard made a note about it, while following Ackerman to the dining room, to talk about business.

He paid attention, asked the right questions, made the proper demands, but his mind was far from this deal he no longer cared about. Anger simmered in his gut as he remembered Barry's pain filled expression. He disliked the feeling, and therefore he would do something about it immediately.

The rest of the meeting passed as it was supposed to, Leonard had proper knowledge of the situation and Ackerman was none the wiser. Mick was mumbling and cursing in the general vicinity, once they were in the room alone, he glared at Leonard.

"You don't care about this job," it wasn't a question, Len eyed his partner calmly.

"I don't care about the job," he acknowledged, nodding as he stared at a random point ahead. "However..."

Mick huffed, his eyes on the hallway Len had been assessing carefully all this time, a knowing smirk on his face, "Yeah, yeah…"

Mick stood up, driving the attention to him and drew his gun. A second later chaos erupted around them, people started shooting and Mick was laughing as he torched furniture, making Ackerman's people run and dodge. Len calmly moved to his feet, his gun in hand and walked towards the hallway, shooting the gun around, not minding the target as long as no one got in his way.

He reached the end of the hall, freezing the doorknob and promptly kicking it open.

The space was dark, the light of the hallway making a path towards the end of the small, almost bare room. Barry was on the bed in the corner, his hands cuffed to the metal frame of the headboard.

Len moved quickly, his fingers tracing the cuffs, Barry's wrists were raw and bloody. He couldn't help but notice the heat emanating from Barry's skin. Hot, perhaps too hot to be normal, even for him.

He pressed Barry's hands to the mattress, aiming the gun at the top of the frame, freezing the structure and avoiding hitting Barry or himself. After the frame was frozen solid, he kicked it to break it, moving Barry's hand over it to free him from the structure, right now he wanted to get the hell out of there, he would worry about unlocking the cuffs later.

"Come on kid," he touched Barry's face, he was burning up. "Damn it."

Holstering the cold gun, Len hooked an arm behind Barry's knees and the other around his shoulders, lifting the unresponsive younger man.

Leonard was mildly surprised and a little concerned with how light Barry was. He expected him to weigh more than this, even in his current malnourished state. The impression lasted only a second, and he was moving again, now with a pale and sick looking speedster in his arms. He walked with the confidence a man with a plan would, strolling pass fallen men and the destruction left behind by cold and fire. Ahead of him Mick was shooting his gun with gusto, barely missing the living obstacles before them.

Barry stirred in his arms, his eyes fluttering but not really opening, a heartbeat later he went rigid, his eyes suddenly wide and unseeing, his mouth contorting in a silent scream.

"Calm down, hey, hey—Scarlet!"

"N-No!"

It was fear, raw fear of something Barry knew. Leonard turned around and sure enough, Ackerman was there, his eyes fixed on the younger man in Len's arms. Len understood he was using his powers as the world around him rippled and distorted into a surreal wasteland, but Barry was gasping for breath, weakly struggling against Len before giving up, his unseeing eyes filled with tears.

"Hey!" Mick's voice was very close, he tried to locate him in the fake scenery his mind perceived, he found the heat first, a line of fire ripping over the fake view, distorting back to reality when Ackerman lost concentration to dodge the fire.

Leonard turned around holding Barry and passing him to Mick, who hoisted him up in his arms with a mere grunt when the kid gave a tiny whimper, closing his eyes.

Taking the cold gun from its holster, Len fired ahead of him, towards Ackerman, sending him backwards and covered in a layer of frost, the man didn't get up. It was enough.

"Let's get out of here," he refrained from looking at Barry, trembling against Mick's chest in a personal hell Leonard had no actual knowledge of, whatever Ackerman did to him, it messed him up to this point.

Mick grunted his acknowledgement and walked with no other word or question, holding the younger man in his arms with a not so strange delicacy in his motion, like Leonard had seen him do before.

Once in the car, Mick laid his cargo on the backseat before taking the wheel, Leonard hesitated for a second but ended up sitting in the backseat as well, Barry against his side. At some point, Barry blacked out again, almost falling over when Mick took a turn, Len reacted immediately, holding the young unconscious man against him.

Mick watched him in the rear mirror, there were explanations to be done, but Leonard had none to give at the moment, he was still going over what just happened on his own.

The ride to the safe house went mostly in silence, with an occasional pain filled sigh of their young cargo.

\------

Leonard placed the first aid kit on the table, in his peripheral vision he noted Mick lowering Barry to the bed, the kid barely made a sound but he was conscious, the tremors and pained gasps gave him away. Once in the bed he went completely still again, his eyes wide open but unseeing, staring at the ceiling with nothing more than fear.

Mick made a face, confused not only with Barry's reaction but the overall situation most likely.

"You're safe, kid."

Barry remained painfully still for a moment, his fingers involuntary twitching against his middle, the cuffs were still in place. Mick retrieved something from the next room and sat on the bed, Barry barely moved, staring at the ceiling and suppressing tremors while the arsonist worked on opening the cuffs

"I don't think he can see me," Mick waved his hand over Barry's face and got no reaction, "He blind?"

Frowning, Len shook his head, "Ackerman said he used him to practice, he might still be under his influence."

"He looks like shit," Len raised an eyebrow, and Mick shrugged. He wasn't wrong.

After another minute or so, there was a soft click and Mick grinned, opening the handcuffs and taking them off with a swift motion, his expression morphed to one of annoyance upon inspecting the bloody mess that were the younger man's wrists.

Barry remained still for another moment, too tense to move his hands from his middle. Finally he let them fall at his sides, closing his fingers over the cold sheets, he remained alert, it gave Leonard the impression he was waiting for something to happen.

Barry was blinking, his fingers gripping the sheets under him. Gritting his teeth, he slowly turned his head towards the right, making eye contact with Len, he blinked several more times, too fast to count and whatever he saw, apparently broke some kind of spell.

"S-Snart?"

Leonard walked towards the bed, sitting at the edge while Barry's tired eyes analyzed him over and over, like he was some kind of puzzle.

"I'm gonna get some water..." Mick didn't wait for Len to answer him to exit the room.

Carefully, Leonard touched Barry's arm, moving towards his hand to make him uncurl his fingers from the sheets, "Seems like they did a number on you."

"I-I... I can't..." he gritted his teeth again, taking Len's hand on his own, catching him by surprise. Len went stiff but Barry didn't seem to notice, he was blinking so hard yet it didn't stop his eyes from watering, a few tears rolling down his face. "I can't see you."

"You just did, Scarlet," he tried to use a gentle voice, unsure of what he was doing. "Did they do something to your eyes?"

Sniffing, Barry shook his head, "I don't know, everything was so dark, I—"

Leonard took a pen lamp from the first aid kit and turned it on, flashing it over Barry's eyes, he blinked again, frowning, "You saw that?"

"A l-light?"

"Yeah," he did it again, making him close his eyes, his free hand going over them to rub them with his thumb and forefinger. "Dr. Snow will know what's wrong, but you aren't blind, that much I can tell you."

"Caitlin, they— they don't know—" he was breathing faster, he was trembling again.

"Hey, deep breaths Scarlet, you're gonna pass out on me—" Barry's breath hitched and then he went limp, "Never mind."

Mick entered and set a couple of water bottles on the nightstand, tilting his head to the side as he stood and observed Len. Len was cleaning one of Barry's wrists with disinfectant wipes, inspecting the damage, but Barry was out cold.

"He passed out?" Len made a sound for an answer, his eyes on the task. "Guess we better take him to his team to patch up."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he dodged the comment, making Mick chuckle. The arsonist took another wipe from the kit and started to work on Barry's other hand.

"You called him _Scarlet_ ," he remained Leonard with a smirk, "And there's only _one_ Scarlet for you."

Len stopped, slowly looking at Mick with annoyance. The arsonist was smirking way too much. It was true, the nickname slipped, he was not concerned with Barry's identify at the moment, but trusted Mick with the information anyway. The annoyance was directed at himself for the slip.

"Not. A. Word."

Mick bandaged Barry's wrist, smirking the whole time. Len was already planning to get Barry to Star Labs, right now they were just doing damage control.

\------

Barry felt light headed, like his head was wrapped in cotton. His mouth was too dry, making his throat hurt in an effort to swallow. He looked around, finding the familiar walls of STAR Labs around him, he didn't want to move, in case this was another trick, another false perception, it wouldn't be the first time.

The click of heels echoing in the hallways was familiar and he faced that direction with watery eyes, preparing himself to see the image crumble around him, leaving him in the small room that had been his prison for who knows how long now.

But the walls around him didn't melt, the floor didn't shatter and Irish didn't vanish, behind her was Caitlin. Caitlin moved quickly toward him him with Iris following. Then they were standing at his side, smiling softly down at him.

"Hey Bear," her voice was soft, just like he remembered, but Barry was so afraid it was another trick. He had seen it before; he had seen her smile only to morph into his captor laughing at him.

He closed his eyes, it was hard to breath and everything around him was too hot, the machines started beeping and Iris was talking but he couldn't breathe. Gasping he opened his eyes but it was only darkness around him and no... no, no, this was not happening, not again. He shook his head from side to side, the air was too hot and he couldn't...

"You're okay Barry, you're fine, can you breathe for me? Barry, please open your eyes."

His eyes were not open? He blinked and slowly the world was making sense around him again, Caitlin checking his vitals, Cisco's hand over his shoulder, he was talking but Barry couldn't hear his voice, and Iris was holding his hand.

"Deep breaths Barry, that's it, you're doing great bro," Cisco's steady voice was guiding him, slowly making more sense as he focused on listening. Cisco was real, he was here, this was not Ackerman messing with his head. He repeated this in his head over and over again, but he couldn't fully believe. He was so afraid everything was going to crash and burn around him, so very afraid of another lie.

Minutes went by and the world around him remained, Iris' hand in his as Caitlin took his vitals and Cisco helped her out. Barry focused on breathing, on the feeling of the cool air around him, the details on the ceiling and the walls, trying to find the breaks, the points where the fake perception washed over the reality, his eyes searching everywhere until he was too tired to keep them open.

He was burning from the inside out. His breath ragged, his eyes unseeing, he was burning and yet he was cold, it made no sense.

"Barry?"

Caitlin flashed a light over his eyes, making him blink. He could see, he just didn't notice until now, lost in the fog remaining in his head. How come he was still wandering in the mist when he was supposed to be out of it by now?

"They did something to you, but Barry… there's nothing to be afraid of now," Cisco, that was Cisco talking, he focused in on his blurry form, trying to reach him. Cisco took his hand in one of his own, smiling sadly, "It's OK, Barr... you're going to be fine."

He believed them, but at the same time didn't, because he felt terrible, he couldn't see properly and he was burning, was Ackerman near? He had to be, otherwise the air wouldn't taste like lead.

"You're in STAR Labs, Barry," Caitlin said softly, her hand touching his sweaty forehead, "Your body is fighting an anomaly... it's a fever Barry, you feel like you're burning because you have a fever."

He gritted his teeth, closing his eyes, he needed to cool down, the heat was too much. He couldn't breathe!

"Hey, hey, it's ok buddy, just breath, nice and easy, inhale, exhale, you can breathe Barry, it's OK," Cisco's grip on his hand tightened and he feel grateful for his friends' presence, he really did, but he couldn't breathe!

"Barry," Caitlin's cold hands were on his face, but it was not enough, it wasn't like that time when the cold saved him, when Snart took him away from Ackerman, "Cisco, help me."

Rustle and movement, Barry could see blurry figures and he didn't know if it was because his eyes were not working right or because they were so watery the shapes got lost behind tears.

"H-Hot... t-too hot..." he panted, trembling.

Cisco helped him up, wrapping Barry's arm over his shoulders and guiding him through the blurry hallway toward one of the bathrooms that had showers. The cold water spray hit him in the face and he felt like he could breathe again, the cold water was helping him. Cisco was there with him, not even complaining about the freezing water, Barry blinked drops from his eyes, his vision focusing.

"You're cold," he noticed, Cisco was shivering but his friend only smiled at him.

"Hey Barr," he shook his head, "I'm fine, just stay calm, we're OK."

Barry sighed, and moved to support himself on the wall. Cisco frowned but eventually helped him to sit on the shower floor, under the spray. He then moved to get out from under the spray but stayed beside Barry the whole time and Barry was grateful for that.

Slowly, he fell asleep, ignoring the whispering in the back of his head telling him this was nothing more than a cute dream about to be broken into pieces.

\------

Leonard was perfectly aware that he shouldn't be doing this, but like many things he was perfectly aware of, it didn't mean he was going to stop doing them.

Yes, he had been observing Barry for some time now, from his house to Star Labs to his work. That last one probably was the riskiest for him, but Barry only went there twice before being sent back home on the third day during lunch time and that was it. He suspected sick leave was involved; he had been kidnapped and was clearly not fine, after all.

Now he was looking at Star Labs from afar, wondering just what the hell he was doing. As he contemplated what would be of his night, Cisco sprinted outside the building looking agitated, which alerted Leonard, who decided to get closer instead of overanalyzing his reasons for being there.

Cisco moved around the building, looking for something, restless, running his hands through his hair and mumbling. He went back but before the doors closed, Len was able to hear him talk to Iris West.

"I can't find him," Cisco sounded distressed.

"He can't be gone," the West girl reasoned, trying to sound calm and not doing a very good job at it.

"No, he's still in the building I just can't find him."

They went back inside and that was all Leonard needed to know. He went to the back of the building and worked his way inside. It took time and it wasn't as easy as he thought, but not impossible either. Once inside he walked the dark hallways with the echo of his steps as the only sound guiding him.

He was looking for Barry, unsure how his friends lost him inside their own building. He left that thought aside for now, walking around with the cold gun in hand, twenty minutes after that he felt frustrated with his blind search, when a hiccup broke the silence.

It was soft, the kind of sound someone made when they were crying but were trying to contain and muffle it to remain still and silent. It painfully reminded him of his younger days. He followed the sound, walking into a room full of equipment. He didn't even need to search the room, his eyes spotted the corners and walked to the one with boxes around it, a shaky breath, another hiccup and then a gasp told him he was in the right place.

He found Barry in a corner of the room, between the wall and a metal box. He was curled into a tiny ball, arms folded around his legs, forehead pressed against his knees, mumbling to himself.

Len went down to one knee, placing the cold gun on the floor, "Scarlet?"

Barry's breath hitched and he tensed even more, his body trembling with anxiety. Len waited for him to uncurl, but to no avail.

"Hey Scarlet, you know where we are?" he asked, sounding casual, "Think we got lost."

"We?" Barry lifted his head, his eyes were red and puffy, "I was... I was alone."

"Now you're not," He shrugged. "Wasn't hard to get inside, maybe you should check that security again."

Barry didn't say a word but shrugged one shoulder, staring at the ground the whole time. He looked exhausted, Leonard could relate to the feeling at least a little. He noticed Barry was bare footed and dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt with the Star Lab's logo. The younger man was shivering constantly and trying to stop doing it, curling even more into himself.

"You never..." Barry bit his lower lip, his eyes watching Leonard as if he was a puzzle. "You're really here?"

Len wasn't sure how to answer that so he went with the straight forward reply, nodding, "Right here Scarlet, shouldn't we go back to the cortex? You seem to be cold."

Barry shook his head and hissed, "I'm b-burning."

He was sweating, that much Leonard could tell, but he was shaking like a leaf and the place was cold, so he had no idea what the speedster was talking about, at least not at first. The kid was pale and overall looked in bad shape, he probably had a fever.

Len reached to take Barry's wrist, the younger man flinched immediately, "I'm not gonna hurt you, Scarlet."

Barry looked back at him, confused, "T-they always say that but... they do."

"Whom?"

"The fakes, the images in my head you create," the answer was mumbled, suppressing a shudder while Len glared at him with confusion, "I'm talking to this fake, you never used Snart before... and... I know you're behind him, aren't you? Just making me feel safe to drag me down again," he's laughing now, it's a broken sound that makes Len’s stomach twist.

Without thinking, Leonard reached for Barry's wrist again, making him yelp, he stiffened and looked at Len with wide, fearful eyes. Len didn't like that look, it made him feel things... unpleasant things.

"I'm not Ackerman," Leonard said, firmly but not in a cruel way. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Barry stared at him then at Len's hand around his wrist, "You don't burn."

"Of course not," he rolled his eyes but there was more to it than he could tell, Barry looked at him almost fascinated.

The kid took Len's hand in both of his, tracing his fingers in a weird way, but Leonard let him, merely tilting his head in curiosity, "You OK, now?"

"You're real," Barry's voice was above a whisper and he was blinking back tears when he lifted his head to look at Len in the eye, "You are real."

"Yes, Scarlet. I am."

Barry looked scared even in his fascination, his fingers digging into Len's hand, yet his fingernails were so short he couldn't make crescent moon marks, he wondered if his friends had them cut for his own safety.

"Let's go back," it wasn't a question, Leonard didn't wait for Barry's reply, instead he half helped him, half forced him to his feet, holding his wrist to walk out of the room and into the dark hallways. Barry followed him, his eyes on Len's back the whole time.

\------

_He woke up in an unknown room, his wrists cuffed and ankles tied up, laying on his side on a bed. His jacket was gone and so were his shoes. Slowly, he sat up, noticing a man sitting on a chair behind him for the first time, he almost jumped off the bed, but the man quickly gripped him by his cuffed wrists and forced him down on the mattress again. This time linking the cuffs to the metal frame with a slim chain._

_"W-Where?"_

_The man smirked at him, sending a shiver down Barry's spine._

_"Welcome to my humble home, Mr. Allen," he spit out his name with something between hate and amusement._

_Barry's eyes searched the place, the headache was making it hard to concentrate but if he could assess the situation, getting out of these binding was not going to be an issue. Remaining calm he moved onto his side, eying his captor with suspicion._

_"What do you want?"_

_The man kept smirking and suddenly his eyes turned black and there was blood dripping from them, his teeth morphed into fangs and the room around him felt five times hotter than a second before. Barry yelped in surprise, trying to get away from the man whose hands were now claws with long, sharp talons in place of nails. A laugh broke through the moment and when he blinked, the room was back, the man was as before and there was no blood or anything like that._

_Barry's heart was hammering in his chest, not even noticing he had moved to the far corner of the bed, his back against the wall, ignoring the way the cuffs dig into the skin of his wrists._

_"My name is Victor Ackerman," he stood, towering over Barry, one knee on the mattress, "And you, Barry Allen, are the reason my father is dead."_

_Barry shook his head once, Ackerman hissed at him and suddenly the metal of the cuffs was so hot it was burning him, he tried to vibrate out of the cuffs but it was not working._

_Ackerman grabbed his hair and it was scalding hot, digging into his scalp, it burnt so badly Barry couldn't help but scream, making the man laugh._

_"It was you who found the evidence, it was you who processed it, you were the CSI in charge of the operation. You are the reason my father was found, you are the reason the trap was set and a fucking rain of bullets followed. My father is dead because of you," he shook Barry, pushing him against the wall behind him, the cuffs burning his wrist, the claws ripping into his scalp, and the heat around him, the air felt heavy, as if filled with smoke and he coughed, unable to breath._

_"I-I don't, I was—"_

_Ackerman seized him by the chin, glaring into confused hazel eyes, "You are very good Barry... my father was no careless man, he knew how to hide his tracks and those he worked with... but you found each step..." the touch started to burn and Barry tried to get away, but the older man didn't let go, "You are too clever for your own good."_

_Barry was pushed against the mattress, on his side, with Ackerman's fingers tangled in his hair. The man stared at him for a moment, eyes narrow, a second later Barry's lungs were burning, the air too hot, his mouth dry, he was gasping and coughing for several minutes, suddenly everything stopped and the air was fresh again, he was drooling when moments before his mouth felt like sand and the fingers digging into his scalp hurt but didn't burn._

_"Fucking timing..." Victor hissed pushing Barry's face against the mattress, "Enjoy your new home Barry."_

_The mob boss left, leaving Barry panting and confused in the room, unable to fully comprehend what was happening._

\------

Back in the cortex, Barry dragged his feet towards the med bay, his movements sluggish. Leonard's hand was around his arm, an anchor of his presence. Feeling drained, Barry moved towards the bed, resting on his side, watching as Leonard shifted around, reading Caitlin's notes.

"You're sick," he said with confusion, Barry made a sound as acknowledge, "What is it?"

"A cold…" He laughed, because it was almost ridiculous how miserable he felt and on top of that his body was not making things better for him by getting sick, "I don't get those… It's... not normal."

Leonard watched him, Barry's eyes were slowly closing, he shivered but was feeling the burning pain of heat returning. Barry was unsure if it was the fever or his mind playing tricks on him, or Ackerman coming back to make him suffer.

"Scarlet," Barry's eyes snapped open, Leonard was standing towards the foot of the bed, "Ackerman is dead."

He frowned, looking into Len's eyes and nodded. He didn't feel anything, no joy nor anger, not even relief. Barry closed his eyes, drifting for a moment, when he opened them again, he couldn't see. His breath hitched, he started to panic, looking for Leonard but there was only darkness around him.

The monitors started beeping, he didn't even notice when he was hooked to the monitoring equipment again. How long was he asleep? Where was Leonard?

"W-Where?" There was a switch and the darkness faded into colors and figures, someone had turned up the lights. "My eyes, why… what's…?"

"Easy," Cisco told him, firm and calm. At his side he could distinguish Caitlin, getting instruments before making her way toward him.

Caitlin flashed the lamp over his eyes, making him blink several times. She smiled sweetly, resting a hand over his arm. Barry didn't feel reassured, He tried but it just wasn't there, He had seen the fake Caitlin before, in his worse moments in Ackerman's hands, when he discovered he had accelerated healing, because the bruises and cuts he gave him faded away quickly. Until they didn’t, because he wasn't eating enough and had little to no water… they never gave him enough.

"There's nothing wrong with your eyes, Barry," he nodded, but didn't feel really reassured.

"I… he never touched my eyes, but I couldn't … " he sighed, looking towards a shiny spec on the floor, away from the darkness of any corner.

"It's okay Bar," Cisco assured him, resting a hand on his shoulder and pretending he didn't notice Barry flinch. "You're safe now."

He didn't feel safe.

\------

_Something was wrong in his head. He tried so hard to fight whatever it was being done to him but it was as if his brain couldn't determinate what was really happening. He was supposed to vibrate out of the cuffs, they were not even special cuffs, just plain metal ones chained around the headboard, but everything in his head was so clouded, so strange. He thought of vibrating his hands and merely ended up just shaking them, it was useless._

_He was on his stomach his time, hands cuffed to the headboard and Ackerman sitting beside him, combing his fingers through Barry's hair. He felt razor blades scraping his skull, he breathed ashes, and he couldn't see anything, the dimly lighted room from moments ago now was solid darkness._

_"You are a pretty thing, aren't you?" Ackerman's claw-like fingers rested still on his head, his voice mocking him. "Are you enjoying yourself?"_

_Barry blinked in darkness, confused. He could feel Ackerman's fingers, hear his taunting words but he didn't see anything. The man chuckled and then he felt something he didn't expect, Ackerman's fingers were still on his hair but there was something roaming his sides, his legs, going over his back and buttocks._

_"N-No, stop it!"_

_The man dug his nails into Barry's scalp, "I'm not doing anything," the mocking tone almost made Barry growl, "Yet you seem to be trembling in excitement, aren't you, Barry?"_

_It felt as if his own clothes were too thin, as if the air itself was caressing him. Barry pulled at his bonds, pressing his legs together but the touch was everywhere, it was intimate, invading, and he hated it._

_"Please," he gasped against the mattress. "Please make it stop."_

_"You rather feel pain?"_

_A second later everything was burning, every fiber of his being was on fire, and he screamed. Ackerman forced his head down to muffle his screams against the sheets, laughing at him. The pain was terrible and under it was that intimate, invasive touch. He felt himself being consumed by it, ignorant of what was real and what wasn't nor of how long it really lasted. There was an invasive touch followed by a burning sensation and no matter how much he thrashed around, it wouldn't go away._

_Then nothing._

_No sound, no sight, no touch, just nothing._

_Barry didn't know if he was moving because he couldn't feel it, he didn't know if he was screaming because there was absolutely no sound. He couldn't tell if he was conscious or not, he was alone in darkness and nothing more._

_With no knowledge of time, it felt like an eternity and when his senses came back they were overloaded. He blinked at the hard light over his eyes, he could feel the dampness on his face, tears running down his face with him unable to tell when he started crying. Barry pulled against the cuffs, he was on his back, his ankles untied and parted, his clothes were a mess and he felt so... used._

_Ackerman was looking down at him, a smug grin on his face and he was tucking himself back into his pants. Barry closed his eyes, suppressing a sob._

_"I'll see you later."_

_The door closed, steps echoing in the hallways, getting farther and farther away, until there was nothing but the silence zooming in his ears. Barry tried to remain calm. Focusing on his breathing, assessing what he was feeling right now._

_His wrists hurt because they were twisted in an odd angle when Ackerman flipped him onto his back. Slowly, he moved to lie on his stomach once again. His ankles were untied, his trousers unbuttoned and the fly down, but his underwear was in place. His shirt was unbuttoned but his undershirt was down._

_Barry released a shaky breath, opening his watery eyes. He didn't hurt around his naval or below but the fear was there, the uncertainty that he was helpless and this man could do whatever he wanted with him. He let himself fall onto the mattress, eyes tightly shut, tears running down his cheeks and pooling in the thin sheets. He felt so lost._

\------

The room was quiet, all the lights on. Barry laid on his side on the bed, staring at nothing. He couldn't sleep because he was afraid of closing his eyes, of relaxing and feeling a phantom pain, an invasive touch. He was afraid of the world around him fading and waking up in that room, under Ackerman's eye.

The clock marks pass 2:00 A.M. He was so tired yet didn't move, didn't close his eyes, his eyes kept staring at nothing.

"Bear?"

Iris' voice was soft, her steps quiet as she entered the room and sat beside him, so close yet not touching, because Barry would flinch away from her, from everyone.

"I can't sleep," he mumbled, not looking at her.

She lifted her hand, almost touching his head but pulled back at the last minute, her eyes desperately searching the room for an answer to the unspoken question of what she should do.

"Hey, someone called you," her comment made him blink in questioning, shifting his attention as she took the cell phone from the nightstand, the blinking light indicating something. "Oh, not a call, a text."

Iris held out the phone to him and Barry shifted a little, taking the phone in his hand, the contact was labeled as "Len" but he didn't remember ever creating it. Still when he opened the text, the knot in his chest eased.

_'You asleep, Scarlet?'_

Barry stared at the text for a moment and sighed, typing back a message.

_'Can't sleep'_

For a moment he thought that was it, but his phone vibrated with an incoming call, he pressed the device against his ear, Iris watching with curiosity.

"What's eating you up, Scarlet?"

That was definitely Leonard's voice, he wasn't even sure how he got the number much less how he got his own in Barry's phone and thought of asking him. Instead he said something entirely different.

"I don't want my sight to fade away," his voice was above a whisper, Iris was besides him and she looked at him with sad eyes and he felt bad about it, but it was how he felt.

"You're not there, Scarlet," Leonard pointed out. "You aren't lost anymore."

"Am I not?"

"Nah, you're not."

Barry exhaled softly, his head resting comfortably on the pillow, eyes blinking slowly as Len started talking about some topic he wasn’t actually paying attention to, Barry just listened. At some point, Iris left the room, her expression concerned but not overly so, as Barry drifted to sleep.

\------

When Leonard saved his number in Barry's phone, he did it because he wanted to have the younger man's number himself. Sending a text from Barry’s mobile to his own was enough to get it. Keeping up with how Barry was doing after his ordeal was optional, Leonard didn't have to do it, yet did it.

He wasn't used to seeing such raw fear and confusion in those green eyes. It bothered him. Such a thing was a rupture in the status, an interruption of how things were supposed to be. Captain Cold was a thief, the Flash was a hero and they were supposed to rival each other, up their game constantly, make each other better, somehow.

But behind the red mask, there was a young man whose humanity made him what he was, whose strength laid in how good he could be. Barry Allen was more than just The Flash, that truth was something that Leonard sometimes forgot.

The kid had been targeted not because he was the Flash, but because he was Barry Allen, CSI.

It really bothers him, missing the important details.

Some time ago, Leonard would have walked away, not caring was an advantage after all, it made things easier, yet lonelier.

Not this time, he was not going to walk away because lying to himself was useless. He cared for Barry, he wanted to see him back up on his feet and moving again, without the fear in his green eyes obscuring their light.

Leonard made a choice and was planning to stick to it.

\------

When Barry became the Flash, he got the confidence that for so many years was missing. He knew he was good at his job; he was confident in his skills and propose. Even when the entire world was against him in defending his father, Barry's confidence in that didn't falter. But even in his convictions, there was part of him that was terribly afraid of failing.

After becoming the Flash, he felt like he could do anything. Rationally, he knew this was not the case, even in his early days he failed and the doubt consumed him, but in the end he found the truth. He was not just some guy stroke by lighting, and he was chosen for a reason.

Barry's battles escalated as the Flash’s enemies surged, even the betrayals had to do with the Flash. Barry's confidence was constantly tested in his everyday life along with his superhero persona. Yet the knowledge of having his speed gave him a sense of security, a sense that he could get pass those obstacles and fight back.

Victor Ackerman didn't care about the Flash, his vendetta was against Barry Allen.

He had felt helpless before, even as the Flash. Eobard Thawne had made him feel helpless and trapped and he hated feeling those emotions and sensations. Victor Ackerman did the same by breaking Barry's connection to reality, damaging his perception of the world around him.

Now he was away from Ackerman, but he didn't feel free.

It was the first time, in a long time, that he was targeted for being Barry Allen. The young CSI that was always running late, was passionate about his job and never left an investigation unattended.

He was afraid, he had reasons to be, after all.

\------

_He felt so weak, so tired. With only a few sips of water and little to no food, Barry was drifting. He tried to escape, to use his speed, but he was drained. He managed a spark of power, not enough to run. Ackerman trapped him in darkness and drowned him in a dry land._

_Then the pain was consuming him again, it lasted longer each time. That or he couldn't tell the passage of time anymore, Barry wasn't sure. He hurt, from the inside and outside. Sometimes even breathing was painful, and Ackerman would only contemplate him as he struggled, sometimes he would laugh._

_It wasn't real, yet… it wasn't an illusion. Ackerman was doing something to his head, and it made him hurt._

_"You are behaving so well today, Barry," Ackerman's fake sweet tone sent shivers down his spine._

_The man caressed his cheek, holding a weak Barry against his chest, sitting on the bed while Barry was prompted to lay in the man's lap, wrist cuffed, and his body burning._

_Ackerman kissed the top of his head, his hand caressing his neck, Barry held back a whimper. He was so scared, this was worse than the pain the man was inflicting on him, in his head and physically. As of lately he would strike him, hit him just for the pleasure of it. Then making the pain and harm inflicted upon him physically worse by using his powers on Barry. He would use his powers to magnify the injuries inflicted to excruciating levels of pain he had never felt before._

_Today he was mocking him with this display, soft touches that burned, lips that tasted like lead. Holding Barry in his lap in a mockery of an embrace, whispering the many terrible things he would do to him, but not today, because today he was behaving, and as a reward he would let him rest._

_It was a lie._

_Barry was too tired, too scare to move, his vision was changing constantly, from darkness to light to the actual place he was in. Ackerman ran his fingers through Barry's hair, letting him see the room they were in, at dim light, no windows. He didn't want to close his eyes so he could taste his rare moment of clarity. A rare moment with no false darkness over his eyes, even with the pain aching in every fiber of his being, because Ackerman was making it seem as if the slaps, punches and kicks that were inflicted on Barry earlier were a thousand times worse than when Ackerman had first done them._

_"Look at you," he whispered in Barry's ear, "Acting so nicely... I could almost believe you."_

_He kissed Barry's neck, the touch changed to a sharp sting that made Barry wince. Ackerman chuckled and did it again, kissing the hollow of his throat. Barry gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out, yet he was too weak to fight back._

_"If I leave marks on you, how long will they last?" it was a rhetorical question so Barry didn't bother to say a thing. Ackerman sucked on his neck, until the pain made him release a small cry, Ackerman ran his fingers over the bruise, unsatisfied. "You don't deserve this skill... to heal... to survive... my father would have been better suited for it, but no..."_

_A sharp tug on his hair, fingers that burned his scalp, "Ah...!"_

_"Let's see…"_

_He tossed him to the floor, Barry landed with a loud thud on his shoulder, biting the inside of his cheek. Ackerman didn't give him time to gain leverage, the first kick landed in his side, the second in the small of his back, a third to the jaw and the sharp, painful throb escalated with whatever Ackerman was doing to his brain. He felt as if his bones where broken, his skin shredded and his insides on fire. Barry gritted his teeth, he knew this was not real in the exterior, but in his head... his brain believed it was real and it was reacting as such, it hurt so much._

_"Please," he finally cried, "Please stop!"_

_Ackerman grabbed him by the hair, forcing him to stand. Barry looked into those hate filled eyes and felt afraid, because this man truly hated him._

_Ackerman pushed Barry against the wall, one hand had a harsh and punishing grip within his hair, the other seizing his jaw, invading his personal space, his breath over Barry's ear as he whispers._

_"Bruise."_

_Barry closes his eyes and screamed, his world turning into a dark explosion of pain._

\------

Barry blinked slowly, taking in the sight of the world around him.

Sometimes, he liked to walk at a normal pace, listening to the sounds of the street. Iris's hold on his hand guided him through the crowd. He wasn't paying attention, rather just feeling, trying to focus, to spot any wrinkles in the scenery, any fakes in his perception.

"We should eat something," Iris declared out of nowhere, or maybe he said it before, Barry wasn't sure, "Ice cream, let's get ice cream."

"Okay," Barry tried to smile and Iris pretended she didn't notice how forced it was.

They got ice cream and walked down the street towards the park, Barry wasn't paying attention, and he accidentally bumped shoulders with a man holding a coffee. The man, in surprise, dropped his beverage and it splattered over Barry, before turning around to fully face Barry and was ready to shout at him. Yet ended up staring at Barry in a shocked silence when he saw the other man's reaction.

Barry didn't shout but he was trembling with contained fear, the sleeve of his shirt soaked in hot coffee, his hand angry red due to the burn the liquid gave him, he was not moving, his watery eyes fixed on his own arm.

"Oh my God, are you OK?" asked the man that dropped the coffee, his anger forgotten, "Sir?"

"I, I don't, I—Iris?"

Iris moved fast, but she didn't want to touch the burn, she turned around to the man on the street, "I'm so sorry."

"No, that's... fine... is he ok?"

Iris shook her head, taking Barry by the other hand and walking down the street, shouting another apology to the man, who only stood there with the other few witnesses of the incident.

Barry was not fine; he was lost in a moment, waiting for the pain in his arm and hand to escalate, like before. He couldn't hear Iris talking to him and flinched when she tried to touch him.

He was back in the room, with Ackerman over him. No, no, no, he wasn't back there, it was all in his head.

Barry raised his hands, ignoring the sharp burn in his left hand and covered his eyes, trying to breathe. He was gasping, it was getting harder, as if the air just didn't want to fill his lungs. His head was pounding and there was pain in his chest, why couldn't he breathe?

Iris, he could hear Iris. She sounded so worried, her hand gently prying his hands away from his eyes, careful to not hurt his left hand even more than he already was. He blinked, Iris looked so worried, her eyes on him, assessing any damage.

"Bear, please calm down, deep breaths, please..."

His eyes drifted around, he didn't recognize the street and the noise, no, no, he wanted to leave. It was so hard to breathe. His back collided with a wall and he slide down to the floor, flinching away from Iris' touch, he couldn't breathe!

There was a shout, Iris' hand on his face and then nothing,

\------

_There was a large bruise on his face, all over his cheekbone to his chin, dark purple, blue, green and red splattered in an angry blotch. Ackerman held his face to stare at it while Barry's unseeing eyes remain unconfused, tears running down his face._

_"I like this one," Ackerman mused, pleased with himself._

_The bruises were lasting longer; he wasn't healing as fast anymore. Barry didn't know if it was because he wasn't eating or whatever Ackerman was doing to him. Maybe it was a combination of both but the lack of substance was definitely an issue._

_There were bruises all over his body, splatters of blue, green and red along his sides, legs, chest and back, but for his captor it wasn't enough. He wanted to achieve something he liked, such as the dark bruise on his face, the only one there._

_Barry was pushed to the floor, then roughly manhandled to his knees, forced to kneel next to his captor's chair. Making him an example of what this mobster could do and a visual of what was to come._

_Closing his eyes, Barry tried to remain hopeful, but was tired and in pain, it was getting harder to breathe, even without his captor messing with his head._

_He just wanted to go home._

\------

The ice clicked in the glass as Leonard put it down, he wasn't expecting a call, so when his mobile went off he reached for it, seeing the unknown number put him on guard and he answered with caution.

"Hello?" an almost desperate voice asked through the line, he recognized the voice. "This is Iris West, please answer me."

"Miss West," he acknowledges. "What do I own the pleasure?"

She sighed, there was distressed sounds in the background, "its Barry," she said, her tone a blend between concerned and angry. "He's... not doing well... and last time he spoke with you, it helped."

He was silent for a long moment, "Where?"

"STAR Labs," she didn't sound angry anymore, just tired, "Just..."

"I'll be there in half an hour," Leonard announced, already placing a few bills on the table and getting up to leave.

"Okay, it's just—"

"I'm on my way."

He ends the call, because if he lets himself talk into it too much he might not go. He finds Barry interesting, he had always had, and he doesn't want the kid to die, hence the reason he snatched him off Ackerman in the first place.

That was supposed to be it, of course it wasn't and yet he didn't feel annoyed or regretted taking the kid from that place, nor when he helped him back in STAR Labs. The text was because he wanted to make sure he was recovering, the phone call because he knew he wasn't.

Accepting Iris West's call and going to STAR Labs because she said he was helping Barry wasn't something he did on a whim. He was already involved, no point in denying it so he might as well continue.

Things were a blur after he arrived to Star Labs, there was a fight between Cisco and Caitlin with Iris about how calling Leonard was not a good idea, but Iris was firm in her decision. Eventually Caitlin agreed because Barry's health was first and Cisco still was not sure about the whole thing but he cared too much about Barry to not try everything. Also there was the fact that Cisco frequently talked to Leonard's sister, perhaps she had shined some good grace about him, who knows.

Leonard on the other hand was too focused on Barry having a panic attack to care about the bickering behind them. Barry was curled into a ball, trying very hard to make himself unnoticeable, tucked between the bed and the wall. The collar of his t-shirt was ripped where he tried to take it off because he felt the heat was suffocating him.

Leonard kneeled before him, his hand slowly touching his head, making him tense even more until he slowly lifted his head to see.

"S-Snart?"

"Len," he countered, gently. "Call me Len."

Barry looked at him for a few moments, blinking watery eyes, and whispered the name as if trying it out on his tongue, "Len."

The older man offered him a small smile and a nod, liking the sound of Barry's voice with his name much better than his last name, "Wanna talk about it?"

Barry shook his head and Len didn't pressure him, instead he sat besides Barry without a word. He extended his hand in the space between them and Barry leaned closer, releasing a sigh of relieve.

"He messed me up," it was a whisper that caught Len's attention. Barry was looking ahead, lost in his thoughts as he talked, "He hit me or had someone beat me and then would do... something... to my head, he would make everything feel worse, scrapes like stabs, hits ten times worse, then he would kiss me and tell me how disappointed he was that I wasn't bruising for him like he wanted."

"Scarlet," he wasn't sure what to say and Barry wasn't listening, once he started he just looked ahead, remembering.

"He discovered I'm a meta, but... not my speed, not really, it was my accelerated healing," he blinked, lost. "But I can't heal if I'm not fine and... I wasn't fine."

"I'm sorry, Scarlet," perhaps it didn't make a difference, but he felt the need to say it.

Barry shook his head, staring at the floor, "I wasn't well and whatever he did made it worse... I wasn't healing fast anymore... he enjoyed that, bruising me, hurting me and then he would be... nice, he was trying to scare me and it worked, I was so scared..."

His whole body trembled with a sob and Leonard closed his eyes, cursing himself before moving to hug Barry. At first the speedster froze, then relaxed in his embrace, breathing hard, as if the air wasn't enough.

"Deep breaths Scarlet, in and out, easy, just go slow," he instructed, Barry melted into the embrace, following his instructions until he was breathing evenly, his eyes closed.

"'em tired," the voice was muffled by Leonard's sweater, as Barry didn't bother to move to speak.

Leonard helped him to stand up and Barry laid on the bed. Len sat on a chair besides it, watching him until he fell asleep.

\------

Caitlin is watching Leonard in silence. The thief doesn't seem fazed, and he just kept eating his fries, watching Barry's vitals sing in the monitor while the younger man sleeps in the med room next to the cortex.

"You found him, didn't you?" She laced her fingers in her lap, brow furrowed in a frown, "He kept saying that. We thought it was you who took him at the beginning but it didn't make sense."

Leonard closed his eyes, he didn't even feel offended by the assumption. He had kidnapped Cisco and Caitlin before so, it was not so far fetched, still...

"Who says I didn't?" he smirked but Caitlin wasn't buying it.

"Barry," she quickly countered. "You were there at some point, in the end, and took him away and back to us, he's pretty sure of it."

Leonard's eyes moved towards her, his expression in some sort of contemplation. "His name is Victor Ackerman, old Walter Ackerman's eldest, crime family, way before central had the Flash or any other meta-human activity."

Caitlin bit her lower lip, nodding, "Barry said they wanted him, not the Flash."

"That's because he figured out old Ackerman's operation. Victor blames him for his father's not so sad or unexpected demise," Len rolled his eyes. He hated dealing with Walter's son, now more than before.

"They told you that, the people who took Barry?"

"Something like that, he let the word spread around," Len didn't suspect the person Ackerman got could be Barry, he had no idea and now it made him feel... angry.

She sat on a chair near him, clasping her hands together, "We got information... after he was back, the man who took him was a meta-human, but—"

"He can alter others' perception of anything around them, sight, sound, touch…" his voice cut over hers, fast and direct, "He used Barry to practice."

Caitlin was silent for half a second, before getting up and walking towards the computer, typing away and searching over files, muttering to herself. Now that she had more insight of what was done to Barry she could actually investigative it. It was obvious he had PTSD – obvious and expected – but there were lingering effects, like Barry's now regular sickness, that needed to be addressed.

Len took another potato fry, his eyes back to the monitor.

\------

Joe was worried, because his son was hurt, sick and scared and he couldn't do anything to fix it. He sat at Barry's bedside, watching him tremble in a feverish dream, effect of the concoction Caitlin mixed to help Barry detox.

Barry's body was fighting against itself, because Ackerman's power to change perception made it react as if whatever threat he created was real. Making Barry's senses and defenses react accordingly, now it was necessary for him to fight the residues and balance back to his normal self.

"N-No..."

Joe brushed the hair off Barry's sweat soaked face, feeling the stab of pain as his son shivered and muttered in his sleep, chased by demons of his own making in reflection of the real ones that got him before.

"It's OK, son," he was able to contain the emotion in his voice, "You're OK."

Barry shivered moving closer to Joe in his feverish dream and the older man rested his hand on his foster son's shoulder, watching him until Barry's breath evened out, sleeping with no nightmares chasing him.

Outside the med room, Leonard didn't move from the spot against the wall he had reclined against some time ago, watching Barry carefully from afar. Joe wasn't happy to see him there, but Iris's intervention stopped the exchange before it began, after all she was the one who called him.

\------

There was a constant flush on Barry's cheeks, his breathing was ragged and slow, and he looked utterly miserable. He had headaches all the time and was covered in sweat, his skin burned and his throat felt sore.

Caitlin's cold hand pressed against his forehead, Barry welcomed the cold sensation, "I'm sorry Barry, we have to let the fever run its course."

He made a face, curling into his side and throwing the covers aside, only for Iris to immediately pull them back, giving him a warning look.

"I'm burning," he said in a feverish whisper, he wanted to feel normal again, just normal.

"It's just the fever," Caitlin repeated, "Once it runs its course, you will feel much better."

He closed his eyes, sighing softly. They let him alone after that, or so he thought. A few minutes later the sound of steps pulled him out of his thoughts and a cool hand over his soothed his feverish skin.

"Len?" he turned in the bed, finding the other man there.

"Right here kid," he smirked, making Barry giggle softly.

"You're real."

"We have established that, yes."

"I never said thank you," Barry mumbled, "For saving me."

Len's thumb traced a random pattern over Barry's wrist; he looked at him in the eye with a barely noticeable smile and nodded. Barry didn't want to sleep, but he was so tired. Leonard didn't make conversation, just sat there, making a random comment every now and then as Barry yawned, fighting to stay awake.

"You should sleep," he suggested, raising an eyebrow.

Barry shuddered, avoiding his eyes and mumbling into the pillow, "I... I don't want it to be fake again."

"Scarlet?" Len leaned over the bed, searching his eyes, "You don't want what to be fake?"

"This, them, everything," He lifted his eyes, looking at Len, "You."

Len gave him a leveled look, "You said he never used my image," Len reminded him, "Right?"

"It's just..." Barry struggled to explain, "I don't think he knew who I was seeing... he just used some information of the people I know and, spoke... my own head morphed them into my friends... and then he would break the fog, to let me know I was still trapped."

It made sense, Leonard thought, that Ackerman would try to imitate something about Barry's friends and family and using his powers would make Barry see someone who was not really there, change what he was seeing to taunt him and hurt him, but Len was an unknown variable.

He lifted Barry's hand, placing his palm against Barry's, his fingers extended. Barry let this happen with only a mildly confused expression, but Len's hands were cold – at least colder than Barry's, who was burning still – so he welcomed the feeling.

"What do you feel right now?" he asked Barry, lightly pressing against his hand.

Barry frowned, "Your hand against mine."

"Describe it."

"But why—?"

"Just do it, Scarlet."

Barry wasn't convinced but still gave it a shot, "Your hand is cold, compared to mine, you feel... nice," the color on his cheeks was product of his fever, and he was grateful for the mask because he would blush about now, "Your thumb is a bit callused, but not rough..."

Len made a sound, "Your palm's sweaty," he told Barry, making him chuckle, "Well, it is."

Barry shifted his fingers, lacing them over Len's, and Len concluded he liked that.

Fuck.

\------

Saints and Sinners was some sort of safe place for Len, even with the people and noise around, it was a place where he could think. Watching the ice click in the half filled glass in his hand, he was precisely doing just that, thinking.

Currently, he was in a predicament. In the past, Len lied to himself a lot, he used to think that he was fine as long as Lisa was safe and his father's terrible parenting didn't affect her. He used to lie and think he could take it and be fine. Reality was a little different, he could endure such a life, but he wasn't fine with it, nor was he fine with the constant threat of his father being able to hurt his sister.

When he finally stopped lying to himself about that, he did something about it.

Everything his father had done couldn't be erased, couldn't be fixed, but Len and Lisa could live pass it and make life better. They got out of the lie of needing Lewis, out of the lie of not being able to handle themselves and onto a path that, while it was a bit crooked, was better than where they used to be.

Lying was something Leonard did very well; so much that even he was able to fool himself from time to time. Those were the occasions where he disliked this particular skill of his, because admitting something you already know was... not pleasant.

Leonard had an option now, he could admit that his interest in Barry was beyond his initial trill of having someone who forced him to up his game, someone to keep the crime in line, or he could stay as he was.

He took another swing of liquor, letting it burn his throat, thinking of his options, the pros and the cons of each one.

Helping Barry escape from Ackerman was not something he regretted, at all. Helping him in his recovery gave Len something he didn't want to put a label on, but it definitely was a feeling, a good one.

Staying near Barry was equally good and bad. Len felt good being near Barry, and he also felt confused, the latter being something he disliked to feel. Right now he needed space, to think, to make a decision and face the consequences of it once taken.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, pulling it out he read the text sent by Barry to him and he hesitated.

Len closed his eyes and replied to the text.

He wanted space, not disconnection.

\------

Barry's phone chirped with the notification of a text message. It wasn't anything important, but it was from Len and it eased a knot in his chest. He had not seen him in several days and didn't ask to meet. Barry just sent a random text and he answered, he would also do the same, especially at night, when sleep was difficult to find.

A smiled formed on his face, it was a silly looking expression, but it felt... nice.

Ackerman did a number on him, the scars of his doings will fade and the physical evidence of his damage will be gone, but Barry would always remember how deeply he cut him, how he was lost because he couldn't tell real from fake.

Being under such conditions, death felt like a real thing approaching. For a moment he wanted to end everything, just to shatter the illusion or let it consume him, submerge to insanity even, anything just to stop feeling so afraid of everything and nothing at the same time. He couldn't trust what he saw, heard or felt anymore and it scared him more than anything he had faced to this day.

He was so sure he would snap when Len's cool touch eased his pain, breaking the illusion his captor imposed on him.

Barry believed there was good in Leonard Snart, and he proved him right.

It wasn't his intention to make Leonard the person able to comfort him. Logically he knew it was not the best idea. He had betrayed him before, but he felt like that wouldn't be an issue now, that Leonard Snart would not lie to Barry Allen like Captain Cold had lied to The Flash.

It doesn't make sense, but at the same time it completely does.

Maybe Barry was just desperate to feel safe and Len made him feel as such. That would be easy to explain, but Barry felt like there was more to it, he wasn't clinging to Leonard just because he happened to be the one that saved him, he was opening to him because he wanted to.

He should be scared, trusting again with the possibility of betrayal, yet... he knew fear, he knew disillusion and betrayal, Leonard was not related to those.

Barry sent a good night text to Len, turning off the lights of his room for the first time in weeks and smiled when his phone's light shimmered in the room when he received a reply.

Perhaps Len was right and Barry was not lost anymore.

\------

Len kept his distance, it was easy to not get involved, or so he told himself.

Reality gave him a hard check a couple of weeks later, when he saw the Flash on the news, getting people out from a building on fire.

It took him ten minutes to arrive, cold gun in hand. The kid was still inside and Leonard was not going to wait to see if he could get out by himself, because he was selfish and he didn't want to wait, that's what he told himself.

Firing the cold gun over the flames took more than just a motion of point and shoot, the quick contact from the ice over the fire generated water and vapor, he had to dodge then shoot to freeze, Len learned that with Mick.

Creating a frozen path to kill the fire, he found Barry by chance, under a collapsed wall. He cursed and extinguished the rest of the fire before moving the debris and pulling Barry out.

"Scarlet? Scarlet!"

He was breathing but he was hurt, definitely hurt and it was bad. The suit seemed to have protected him a great deal but part of it was torn and melted on his lower back, right leg and left shoulder. He had burn marks on the left side of his face along the jaw line and he wasn't moving.

Len holstered the cold gun and took Barry into his arms, feeling oddly familiar with the weight of the younger man. Getting out of the building was not hard now that most of the fire was out, still he did it through the back to avoid the firefighters and the police. His bike was closer by that way. Hoisting Barry to sit on the bike with his chest against Len's, he managed to ride with the unconscious speedster against him.

"B—ry! B-r-y!...."

The sound was coming from the comms over Barry's ears, the lightning bolts. Len eyed them for a second in between looking at the road and turned left onto the next street, fixing his way towards Star Labs. His heart hammering in his chest with adrenaline and the deep, carnivorous worry that threatened to eat all his bravado.

Barry was hurt, he was in danger and Len was going to help him, because he wanted to.

Fuck it, he was already in deep. No point in denying it.

\------

Barry woke up feeling sore and dizzy, blinking away the cobwebs he looked around, finding himself in the familiar med room in Star Labs. What he wasn't expecting to find was Leonard Snart on a chair by his bedside, asleep. He contemplated this for a moment and concluded that while not expecting Len to be here, he was glad about it.

As if Barry's stare could be felt by the other, Len blinked awake, his eyes finding Barry's in the quiet room.

"Hey Scarlet."

"Hey..." he answered, the ghost of a smile on his face, "What happened?"

Len rested his elbows on his knees, "A wall fell on you, a wall that happened to be on fire."

"Oh."

"Yeah..."

Barry frowned, he remembered running to get everyone out and then doing another round to check no one was in the building, but the heat... the heat was too much and he couldn't...

"I couldn't breathe," his voice was nothing more than a whisper, his eyes wide, almost panicking. Len moved closer, his hand over Barry's, who immediately laced their fingers together, seeking his touch.

"You're fine now, see?" he gestured towards Barry's general area, "Healing and everything."

He had an IV Drip and while it was uncomfortable, he welcomed the soothing feeling of his own body healing his injures. Barry sat up, flexing the fingers of his free hand while staring at his palm. He has no scars on them and they don't feel hot anymore, yet that doesn't give him comfort.

"The air was too hot," Barry explained, his eyes slightly narrowed as he recalled what he felt. "For a moment it felt like I was back in that room, with Ackerman."

Len nodded to acknowledge he was listening. Barry's powers were supposed to do better in a normal to elevated temperature, but when the air was so hot you couldn't breathe, it's a harmful extreme. Such had been the case with Ackerman's doing and the reminiscence of that fear in the burning building.

"But at the time you were in an actual burning building," he told Barry evenly, "Where the air was actually too hot to breathe, and filled with smoke."

Barry licked his lips, thinking. "I... I could've do something more, to extinguish the fire or... disperse the smoke."

"Barry," there was a warning in Len's tone, that made Barry look at him in the eye, "It takes time to be fine, you can't rush this one."

A chuckle and small smile on Barry's lips were worth the not completely unintentional pun, Len smiled back at him. This kid... God, he was in deep.

"I want to be okay," Barry whispered. "I want to be me again."

"And you will," Len’s thumb pressed against the palm of Barry’s hand that he was still holding, "Eventually."

Barry nodded. It was more than just a response, he believed in himself in being able to get pass this and heal, he was so tired of being afraid he tried to rush the process, but he knew it doesn't work that way. In his mind, he knew it was valid to be afraid, to need time, yet the desperation to be what he used to be brought frustration and impatience.

"I wish I could wake up and say, I am fine, and actually mean it," Barry whispered, his fingers tightening their hold around Leonard’s to ground himself. "I wish I could say that I'm going to pass over this and… that just happens."

Leonard was quiet for a moment, but his fingers were wrapped around Barry's, his eyes on him. He came closer, standing without letting go of him, resting his free hand over the base of Barry's neck, kissing the younger man's hairline.

Barry closed his eyes, smiling at the feeling of Len's touch over his forehead, warm but not hot, alive and real.

Len moved to look at him in the eye, "You can say it and you can make it happen. It will not be in an instant but that wish, that conviction to make it happen is the first step, and you already have that in you." Len smiled at him, "You will get better, Barry."

With a soft sigh, Barry smiled back, feeling that Len's words were more than encouragement. He felt like Len was telling him a truth about himself; that he knew even better than Barry, and oddly enough, Barry believed him.

\------

Over the next few weeks, Barry found himself smiling upon the thought of seeing Leonard. In the beginning he thought he craved his company because it was him who pulled him out of the place he had been trapped. That perhaps he associated him with safety and hope, he was not far off that point, in the beginning at least.

Now it was more than that, Len was an unexpected variable in his life that was slowly becoming a safe constant. He was not sure of what he was feeling, Leonard Snart was Captain Cold, one of his enemies. Yet he was the one who saved him, the one that even knowing he was essentially incapacitated didn't use that information against him, instead approached him to help him.

Walking down the street he let himself feel the air around him, the pavement beneath his feet, the people moving in their own lives with their own ideas. He felt everything, the sun peaking from behind the clouds, the sounds of the city and the cool air filled with the life of the city. He drank in the details, admiring the loud life and the discreet silence.

Barry was a couple of blocks near the CCPD, feeling confident enough to request to be reinstalled in his job, he wasn't afraid of the evaluation anymore because he felt functional enough to pick up his life. As of now, he was on medical leave, the investigation of his kidnaping ongoing, he was not going to be involved in it aside from his testimony.

As he walked, the air lost its cool feeling and the sky cracked. Barry came to a stop, blinking fast as everything was trembling in his vision but the people around him were giving no reaction. Slowly he pressed his back against the nearest wall, people passed by him with no notice of his predicament.

"Hello?" he asked in shaky voice, "Can somebody help me?"

The world was spinning and his breath hitched. There was a woman with brown curly hair who stopped for a moment, looking around in confusion, her two friends came to a stop when they noticed she was not with them, one with long light brown hair, the other one with short black hair, both walked back to her friend.

"Something happened?" the one with black hair asked.

"I heard someone calling for help," the brunet explained, "But I don't see anyone."

The one with light brown hair pulled out her mobile phone, ready to call for help in case it was necessary. They moved around Barry, almost as if they didn't see him, even thinking he was right there, his back against the wall, his legs shaking as he panted.

"Help me, please…"

"I hear someone, a man I think," the brunet assured them, "But I can't see him."

"I heard it too," the one with black hair said, "Where is he?"

They were looking around when the reality around Barry shivered and Ackerman was there, holding a gun towards the woman looking for Barry. He smirked down at the CSI, ready to pull the trigger.

"You are coming with me," not waiting for Barry to answer, he shoved one of the woman, making the other two focus on her. He took Barry by the shoulder, forcing him to his feet, Barry tried to run but the world was completely dark around him and there was no sound.

He felt himself being moved but there was a point where he felt nothing at all, he might have screamed, tried to run, to hurt his tormentor but he couldn't tell because around him was nothing at all, he was trapped.

\------

There was a packet with his name at Saints and Sinners, the bartender gave it to Mick who proceeded to open it with a nonchalant expression. His plan was to deem it safe or not, he wasn't expecting what he found.

Less than half an hour later, Leonard was with Mick at Star Labs, the photograph of a badly beaten and shaken Barry displayed on the monitor. His eyes were unseeing, lost in the pain and whatever else Ackerman was doing to him with his powers.

"I need to find him," Len hissed, unnecessarily. Cisco was already looking for his friend with an impressive concentration.

The black letters scribbled over the picture haunted Len, 'It's over' it read, and he had no doubt Victor was going to kill Barry if they didn't find him. At the beginning it was all about revenge against Barry for being the one who figured out Ackerman´s operation. Added to that was how Leonard finished whatever was left from those ashes when he refused the job and, between Mick and himself, teared everything to the ground.

Victor Ackerman was supposed to be dead, Len himself shot him with the cold gun, he fell and didn't get up, it was supposed to stay that way, what had gone wrong?

"Got him!" Cisco said after a few minutes, having cross checked the traffic cams and using some other elements, "He's in a warehouse by Ferris Air."

Leonard nodded, turning around to leave towards that place, ignoring a protesting Cisco and Caitlin, arguing that they could not go alone. Iris on the other hand didn't say anything, instead grabbed Cisco by the wrist and tugged him towards the back garage, where the van was parked, Caitlin closely behind them.

"I'll go with them," Mick announced once Len stopped by his side, "You go ahead, your bike is faster."

"Yes."

Leonard continued a bit faster, getting on his bike and putting the helmet on in record time, he knew where to go, how could he not? It was the place where he betrayed Barry once and he was going to fight for it to not be the place to see him for the last time, no… he was going to get Barry back, he had to.

He broke far too many traffic laws in order to get there. When he saw Ferris Air close a thought invaded his mind, he wasn't ready for the worse. Leonard was coming for a fight, he was going to get Barry and end Ackerman. He wasn't ready to find the man already done with Barry, he wasn't ready to lose someone he had just started to care for so deeply.

He was afraid, yet his face was blank as he reached the warehouse, entering with the cold gun in hand, ready to shoot, his heart stopped for a second before beating wildly again. Barry was not dead, but he was not safe either.

"Of course it is you," Ackerman's raspy voice criticized.

The man looked dead – as he should be, Len's mind supplied – the skin of his neck blackened with half healed frostbite, as well as part of the left side of his face. He was holding an unresponsive Barry against his chest, a gun pressed over his temple.

"Let him go," Len hissed, the cold gun active. He didn't want to shoot Barry but he could recover from the shot if it wasn't direct, yet at his present state he didn't want to risk hurting him even more.

"I told you I was done," Ackerman mocked, letting go of Barry, who crumbled to the floor, his half closed eyes not even moving, "I don't care if he lives, there are worse things than death," a motion towards the younger man and a chuckled, "I'm done."

Ackerman mouthed the gun, Len didn't look away as the once mobster took his own life, ending what Leonard started. The gun shot echoed in the place, covering the sound of a body hitting the floor, followed by eerie silence.

The cold gun fell from his hand, he didn't even notice as he ran to gather Barry in his arms. There were bruises and cuts everywhere, he was bleeding heavily yet he wasn't responding.

"Barry," he urged, "Barry, Barry please answer me."

The Star Labs van arrived a moment later, Caitlin and Cisco running towards their friend, pushing Len out of the way to tend to the younger man. It was Mick who took Len by the shoulder to move him, because was lost in the deadness of Barry's eyes, the creeping, horrific thought that he was too late invaded him. That even if Barry was breathing, he wasn't alive anymore.

\------

Barry's wounds healed, the marks on his skin faded and he didn't react.

He was alive, yet he wasn't living. Without the intervention from those around him he wouldn't survive, there was no medical procedure that could help him, his mind was just… gone.

Leonard couldn't bear to look at him yet he couldn't look away because he wasn't a coward, he was not going to run away from the sound of his own heart shattering each time he spoke and Barry would not even blink, staring straight ahead, breathing while being dead.

He screamed, trashed his house, injured himself and didn't feel the physical pain because he was choking on the emotional. Barry was lost and Leonard couldn't reach him, not anymore.

He wasn't there, he couldn't even save the one he cared for, yet here he was, fighting the scum of Central City because the Flash was gone. Here he was waving his cold gun and making puns as he stopped the metas and didn't even try to take any of the possessions they tried to robe. He hated every second of it because it did nothing to ease his pain, he was suffocating day and night, everything inside him turning to dust every time he would see Iris reading to Barry and he would barely move, barely blink.

Mick offered him silent support, helping with his not-a-hero task, letting him fight others in order to fight his own pain. He got food for him because Len was at the point where he would forget to eat, not so subtlety make him take care of himself. He would not let him crumble, even if that meant going to not-being-a-hero with him, just to make sure he didn't let another mop the floor with him.

Joe West was not giving him the evil eye anymore, there was pity in that look and Len hated it. Iris pitied him too but wasn't forward about it, instead she would give Len a new science fiction book and ask him to read it to Barry.

"In our journey, Estraven had lost all the smooth, compact solidity that marks the Gethenia physics he was gaunt and scarred, and his face was burnt by cold almost as by fire. He was a dark, hard, and yet elusive figure in the quick, restless light." He read, his eyes on the letters and not the younger man sitting at his side, staring at his feet.

Len stopped, feeling tired and soul weary. There was too much inside him and he had said almost none of it. His eyes moved around the room they were in, it had every intimate touch of personality that someone like Barry could give, in the details he encountered the silent message, the screams of I'm Alive, I'm Here that his eyes no longer gave.

He placed the book on the nightstand, turning to look at a blinking Barry, who was moving as if there was something there, something more than the nothingness he had become. Leonard took Barry's face in his hands, looking at the distracted, moving eyes that would not look at him, yet didn't feel so dead as before.

"Scarlet," he called softly, feeling his heart hammering in his chest, "Scarlet, come back, you have been gone far too long, come on kid, don't do this, you have to come back, everyone is waiting… I'm waiting… and I'll wait as long as you need… but please, please come back."

Green eyes wandered around for a moment, before focusing on Len's blue ones. His hands twitched ever so slightly, before he lifted them up to imitate the gesture, framing Len's face with them. He blinked, his eyes still on Leonard even after that, his breathing evened, and his fingers softly caressed Leonard's face, his gaze slowly focusing on him.

\------

Barry ran in darkness, with no sound and not feeling anything, he was detached of everything, because Ackerman destroyed every inch of connection he had with reality, and Barry retreated himself from the world instead of facing the lies of a man that hated him. But now… there was a sound, small but constant and Barry followed it.

He couldn't tell how long he was running, how long he was trapped in darkness, but slowly his hands felt touch, his skin felt the cold he knew so well, his ears found the voice and his gaze cleared. He blinked several times, trying so hard to dispel the darkness, finding the blue of Leonard's eyes in a world that lost meaning when perception was destroyed.

He smiled, his eyes on Leonard's, because he could feel his cool soothing skin under his fingers, he could feel the warmth of his hand on his face. He could hear his hitched breathing and see the watery eyes that were holding back no emotion.

"Len."

Leonard pulled him into a kiss, his lips crashing against Barry in a desperate motion and Barry welcomed it, parting his lips to taste Len, to feel his arms around him, to curl every single one of his senses in the feeling of Leonard, because he was not trapped in his own head anymore.

"Barry, B-Barry, _Scarlet_ ," the feverish whisper broke the spell and Barry didn't notice his own tears as he curled against Len's chest, clutching his shirt, just feeling him, feeling how real he was.

"I'm so sorry," he said, but he couldn't stop smiling, "I couldn't escape but… I heard your voice and followed it, I was so afraid it wasn't real—"

"I'm real and you're here, with me."

"Yeah… I'm home."

They held each other with such force it was sure to leave marks but Barry didn't care, he wanted to feel, to see, to taste every inch of Leonard Snart, the man who brought him back.

Because after losing all hope and finding it once more, Barry was finally home.


End file.
